Broken Dreams (Unhingedverse)
Broken Dreams: Chapter 15

LINUS

We aren’t used to alphas like Callum and Duncan. They genuinely don’t care about money outside of using it to take care of the people important to them, and barely glance at prices as Quinn tries on bras. Their eyes do, however, appreciatively move over her creamy skin when she comes out to show us each bra or set.

The dressing room in the lingerie department has been closed for our use and the alphas and I are sitting on the couches in front of where Quinn is changing. There’s a glow inside of her as our omega chooses styles that she enjoys, look beautiful on her, and most importantly, fit well.

Lingerie has always been a work attire for Quinn. There’s no joy or excitement in it typically, because she’s tailoring looks for the benefit of others. Callum and Duncan just want her to be happy and comfortable in what she’s wearing.

The reason she’s buying bras is because her breasts are too large to go without in public, and our alphas may kill anyone who so much as looks at her sideways. Public safety demands that her breasts be contained.

The thought makes me smirk in amusement to myself as Quinn begins changing back into her shirt. She’s wearing one of the bras out, and the store clerk is aware of that.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Callum whispers into my ear. There’s no denying he smells incredible, his voice so close that it vibrates along my skin in a pleasant way. It’s when he scent marks me, his stubble scratching along my jawline, that I begin to have trouble breathing.

“Ahh,” I gasp in a breath as his hand sits on my thigh and he turns toward me. “Public murders?”

Duncan snickers as Quinn steps out of the changing room, her brow raised at us.

“Is Linus a little unhinged and we don’t know about it?” he asks. At Quinn’s confused look, he explains, “He’s thinking about public executions for some reason.”

“You’ve been glaring at everyone while we walked through the store,” I wheeze out as the color floods my cheeks. “Buying bras is a public service, so that people don’t die.”

Callum barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not a wrong assumption. I still may be tempted to off someone,” he says, standing and heading to the register to pay.

Following him, I wish I could splash some cold water on my skin. These guys have me ready to burst into flames. This is such an odd experience for me to feel outside of sex. They’re just being themselves and turning me on.

There’s no expectation for any reciprocal action at all.

I feel as if I’m walking on air as I head out to the vehicle with them after they’ve paid. Every sweet thing they do is making me more and more attracted to them, and I can feel myself falling hard. There’s no warning bells telling me this is too fast, or even the urge to slow down. It’s easy, even when we have to discuss hard things.

“Do you know the owner of the club well?” I ask, beginning to feel nervous as we get closer to our interview.

Quinn, sweet girl that she is, reaches out across the middle seat and takes my hand. I can feel the slight tremble in her own, which speaks volumes. We’re both wearing clothes that we can dance in just in case she wants that as part of our interview, and we’re both feeling the same pressure to perform well.

We’ve only ever “worked” for one club owner before, and neither of us want to work for another sleazeball.

“Cerenity Quinn is part of the mafia community, and her club is neutral ground,” Callum says. My Quinn jerks in surprise at hearing that the club owner’s last name is the same as her first. “She runs a tight ship, protects her employees, and has a special place for helping omegas.”

“You’ll be safe while working there, though we’ll probably troll the club for the first couple of nights to make sure everything is okay,” Duncan adds.

“This is all if she hires us,” I remind them as Quinn nods worriedly. “There’s a lot of reasons she could decide not to.”

“Like what?” Callum asks as he twists in his seat to glance at us. Duncan simply glances at me in the rearview mirror, amused.

“I don’t know, we have a very questionable work history,” I sigh. I can feel myself getting worked up and I can’t stop my spiral. Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought. Fuck. “What if she doesn’t want to hire us because⁠—”

“Stop,” Callum growls, using his alpha bark. It’s so surprising my lips clamp closed while my eyes get wide. “Now take a breath.”

Watching as I take an explosive breath in, he nods. “If you were paid prostitutes, Cerenity wouldn’t care. It’s not her business. The fact that you had no choice in the matter also will not make a dent in her decision outside of wanting to help you,” Callum says.

“You’re going to do great,” Duncan rumbles. They both begin to purr, helping my brain fill with dopamine in an attempt to fight off the building panic attack. “Borrowing trouble is the thief of joy, Linus. Meet her first before you worry that you’re not good enough.”

Quinn yanks out her pad of paper from the pocket in front of her seat and writes, You’re a great dancer. I know she’ll take us both.

“Ha! Baby, you know you’re the one who makes me look good,” I say with a snort. This is helping. The banter, the reminder that I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anxiety was something I used to deal with a lot in college. It’s as if being at the club with the same schedule, despite having so much information kept from us, cured most of it. I was also always with Quinn, and we both watched out for each other. It’s a brave new world now, and everything is a surprise these days.

It’s so weird how this is the corkscrew that is throwing me today, of all things.

Quinn shakes her head, her hair up in space buns that will soon be shorter and bright pink.

Don’t sell yourself short!

“Can we watch you dance one day?” Duncan asks suddenly.

While they moved the furniture out of the way, they didn’t stay to watch while we danced this morning. They’re still drawing boundaries for us where they aren’t needed. While it’s sweet, I don’t know how to ask them to stop.

I suppose it would also help if I knew why they’re doing this.

“Tomorrow?” I ask, willing the chaos in my mind to stop. Maybe if I make a plan for something after this interview, it’ll help.

It’s more difficult to dramatically imagine myself passing out and dying if I want to live to the next moment. Don’t ask why that helps, it’s my brain not yours.

“Yeah, I can’t say I have any plans,” Callum teases me.

The conversation continues right up until we pull into the club parking lot, that’s currently empty outside of a few cars, and we all pile out of the SUV to head toward the building. A tall alpha with a closely cut beard and green eyes opens the door as we stand before it, his lips curled in a friendly smile. Somehow, I imagine that he must see a lot of people to be able to automatically pull his face into one.

While I’m friendly, I’ve had to be for my job, I haven’t had the chance to replace out if I’m naturally like this or if it’s something I’ve simply been trained to be.

“Hey, I believe you’re Cerenity’s interview, right?” he says. At our nod, he ushers us in. “I’m Augustine, the manager and co-owner with her. You’ll probably be seeing a lot of me.”

I keep waiting for him to say “if you get the job”, but those words never come.

“Let me go grab her,” he says. “I meant to earlier, but she’s deep into the process of cleaning her office.”

I immediately think about how certain piles of paperwork would inevitably need to be filed by category and blink. Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually an omega outside of my body chemistry because I don’t act like one, and then something like this happens. I’m sure my instincts will unravel the longer I allow myself to get comfortable being me and not a fuck toy.

It’s been ten years since I’ve had to think about who I am.

Standing in the middle of the club, I look around as Augustine goes to pull Cerenity from whatever chaos she’s organizing. There appears to be two levels to the club, and the cages are hanging above the main floor, which I appreciate. It helps to see what they’ll look like during a busy night. They’re far enough away from anyone that no one can touch us, we can just dance.

Looking longingly at the cages because they mean protection from others and I can also get out of it whenever I want, I feel Quinn next to me as she loops her arm through mine. I’m not claustrophobic and neither is she, so that won’t be an issue either. I’m still getting ahead of myself though.

Turning to look at the bar, I see it’s long and sleek, perfect for serving customers. The walls are black with navy blue crown molding, and the gold chandeliers fit in perfectly with the vibe of the club. It’s definitely not a dive bar, catering to a wide variety of people looking for a fun night out.

“I’m here, I swear,” a woman with brilliant blue hair says as she walks out of a back hallway. There’s a chaotic energy inside of her as she moves closer, her electric blue eyes assessing as she gazes at us. “I didn’t expect to fall into my paperwork and not come up for air.”

I’m caught between wanting to agree and not wanting to say the wrong thing as I nod. Quinn simply gazes at Cerenity as if to assess what she’s about.

“So, before we get started, I want to make sure that you know I take security seriously,” she says. “Someone will walk you through the club when it’s time for you to dance in the cages. This only works if you wait for them. We’ve had cases where the guard was late to escort a dancer, and it resulted in a guest with grabby hands getting his ass handed to him by me.”

Huh.

“While there’s a chance I would still have had to show him the definition of respect at some point with the business end of my bat, the dancer would have been safer if she’d waited,” Cerenity adds.

“Let the club staff worry about timing of when cages go up,” Augustine says. “If you’re running late because of security, the DJ will keep playing and we’ll amend it. Everyone works well on their toes.”

“You’re acting as if this is a done deal,” I say, showing my confusion.

“I want to show you that this is a completely different work environment than where you came from,” she says sincerely. “No one is allowed to touch you. My guards will break fingers without blinking and get away with it. The police and I get along very well, especially with the new chief of police in office.”

“This interview is a two way street. It’s as much of a way for you to learn about the club and what’s expected, as well as to make sure you’re the right fit for the job,” Augustine says. ‘How long have you been dancing?”

“Ten years for me and sixteen for Quinn,” I say, not loving that I’m speaking for her, but she squeezes my arm to say that it’s fine. “I learned because of her. She needed someone to dance with, and I needed something to do.”

I guess I did have anxiety, I just learned to mask it. It’s weird to have that kind of self discovery in the middle of an interview, but here we are. Dancing with Quinn to help her do the same helped.

It was the one thing Bret turned a blind eye to, because it meant Quinn’s muscles were loose enough for whatever she had to do that night. It also helped me stay in perfect shape as eye candy.

“Alright. I think we’ll do some nights where you two dance together, and try some separately,” Cerenity muses. “Sometimes, we organize dances with the entire team of dancers and open the night that way. You’ll be taught the steps in advance, and there are rehearsals. Now, though, take the dance floor over here and show me what you can do. I’ll throw on some music.”

Quinn nods, biting her lip at her shoes. She spent a lot of time barefoot or in sky high heels. My shoes aren’t the best either for dancing, and Augustine notices our hesitation as Cerenity goes to turn on music.

“Take them off,” he says with a shrug. “The floors are really clean right now, especially the dance floor since no one’s been on it yet. We just cleaned the club from top to bottom.”

Nodding, I pull off my shoes and socks, and Quinn does the same. Taking my hand, we walk to the pretty checkered dance floor that could be from an earlier time frame in history. Instead, it works with the ambiance of the club.

Sky High by Milkman comes on, and Quinn and I grin at each other. We’d heard this song often at the club, but only now are we learning the names of our favorite songs. Rejoining the world is surreal. There are so many potholes along the way, but there are also fun things about it like music.

We just let the notes take over us, and my footsteps match hers as we dance. I turn her when it feels right, and her hips move in a mixture of seduction and joy. This is our happy place.

It doesn’t matter how I learned to dance, it’s always been untainted for me because I had never been the focus point for Slick Dreams’ clients, on a pole or stage. By the same token, Quinn managed to keep dancing in a bubble away from clients because no one was ever allowed to touch her while she danced.

The music ends as she drags her fingers over my chest, and I dip her over my arm. Her body lines are clean and pliant, fully warmed up from dancing this morning. Her smile is wide as I lift her back up and we turn to face our own little audience.

“Holy shit,” Duncan rasps. “That was amazing.”

“You two can definitely move for being self taught,” Cerenity says with an impressed nod. “Can you follow along if you’re taught a dance?”

“I won’t know what the different kinds of moves are called,” I admit. “I can follow along, though. That’s how I learned from Quinn.”

Quinn nods in agreement, and Cerenity purses her lips as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Duncan explained a bit about your speech, or lack of it, Quinn,” she says as delicately as possible. “I’m going to make sure you have a micro tablet with you when you’re not dancing so you can always communicate, okay? Leave the tablet with the person who helps you into the cage, and then they’ll return it when you’re done. This way you don’t have to worry about where to put it while you’re dancing.”

“Everyone deserves a voice,” Augustine says, and I swear I just fell in love with my bosses.

Accommodation isn’t always easy to replace, and they just accepted Quinn’s muteness so easily. I hope she’ll replace her voice again. I love the sound of it.

“Let’s get your paperwork filled out,” Cerenity says, motioning toward the bar. “Do we need to be flexible on your last names?”

“I’m dropping off paperwork that gives Quinn and Linus the last name Kelly today. It’s one of our stops,” Callum says. “The more layers of protection we can give them, the better. Quinn also went by another name at the club, so that should help too.”

“Good,” she says, nodding.

She leads us through the paperwork, and Quinn and I fill it all out. Half an hour later, we’re done. Duncan and Callum are going to make sure the legal name change is backdated by the judge who’ll approve this.

“Can you start in two days?” Cerenity asks. “I usually would give it a little more time, but I know what your background is so a criminal background check is pointless, and I am a little light on dancers.”

“Yeah, we’re in,” I tell her eagerly. Quinn nods enthusiastically. We’re ready to work.

“Perfect, we’ll see you then. The uniform for that night is a mesh bodysuit for women with black shorts you can move in and fishnets underneath it. Black ballet flats for men and women, because it’s easy to move in them. There will be times you’ll need heels, Quinn. Linus, you’ll be in a mesh fishnet shirt and leather pants.”

That’s easy enough.

Saying goodbye, we walk out, and I take a deep, cleansing breath.

“That was so much better than I expected,” I admit.

Quinn looks more relaxed as she sighs happily, and Callum smirks.

“You two blew this up to be so much bigger than it needed to be, but I get it,” he says as we get into the SUV. “Now let’s get this paperwork to the clerk’s office to make you officially Kellys.”

The adrenaline that hits my veins almost makes me dizzy as I clutch Quinn’s hand. Scooting over to sit in the middle seat, we hold each other up as our alphas drive. There’s still a lot of obstacles to cross and I know Bret is probably looking for us, but right now the world feels shiny and exciting for the first time in a long while.

DUNCAN

My ass is falling asleep in this chair as I wait for Quinn to get her hair done, and I’m not annoyed in the least. I’m catching up on work emails and texts, while Linus catches a nap on my shoulder and Callum works.

Callum brings in the bulk of our income, unless I’m setting up a job to remove someone from the playing field of life. I’m a semi-retired assassin, and also provide security for different types of jobs. A year and a half ago, our guards were flipped by an alpha at a party at our house and two omegas were kidnapped.

I purged them all, and started from scratch to rebuild my company. I won’t have disloyal men working for me or weak ones that will hurt those they’re meant to protect. Needless to say, jobs are beginning to build slowly as I replace people to test out these new employees.

I’ve never wanted to die from embarrassment and anger more than the night we announced that we’d been betrayed. Never again will I allow that to happen.

So I’m touching base now with the guards who are working after also having fired my secretary and hiring manager. If I want something done, I’ll do it my damn self. I’m replaceing that while it’s more legwork, there’s a satisfaction to knowing my employees are connected to me in a way they wouldn’t be if there was a middle man communicating with them.

Linus’ gentle breathing is adorable as he naps with his head on my shoulder, a reminder of how anxious he was today. I think that it’ll continue to crop up, because I can see that he puts a good front up when he thinks he needs to.

The thing is, I don’t believe he knows he’s doing this, which means when the anxiety rips off his facade, it’s that much more shocking to him. Callum and I are going to need to watch him closely. Quinn isn’t the only one overwhelmed by their reemergence into the world.

A text comes through on my phone, and I curse under my breath when I see who it is.

“What is it?” Callum asks absently, putting his own phone down once he sees the snarl on my face. “We’ve already done this song and dance recently, Duncan. Open whatever it is and tell me.”

My snarl relaxes slightly, and I’m reminded of why he should have been born first. Sometimes, I overreact. However, this is not one of those times because Hudson Hughes is currently texting me.

“Bastard,” I mutter. “Hudson wants to know if we have his daughter. God only knows how he knows fuck all about anything.”

“One of his businesses is in the communications industry,” Callum groans, his head dropping back. “Our house is in a dead zone. Drones will get spotty service over our house. Rock didn’t know that when he sic’d his sons on us.”

I know all of that, and yet, somehow one of the assholes we’ve been hoping to keep this information from found out. I read the text out to Callum, waiting to see what I should respond back. I need feedback here, because I’m one step away from telling Hudson to go fuck himself with a rusty pole.

“A little help here,” I rasp.

“Baby steps,” Callum cautions. “His daughter has been gone for twenty years, I doubt he’s grasping at straws. He knows something in order to pop up with that as a topic of conversation when it’s been almost a year since we’ve last spoken to him.”

“True,” I grunt, leaving Hudson on read for now. “It’s so out of the blue. We’ve also been to several places in the city and haven’t been overly covert about it.”

“Answer him, tell him that it’s a pretty big leap to presume we have somehow found his daughter after twenty years of being missing,” my brother says.

Oh well, may as well shove at the bull. It’s what Callum and I do best.

Another text message pops up, and I sigh heavily. That’s fucking awesome.

No, I found Quinn Kelly, thank you very much. If Hudson has a contact at the courthouse, it’s possible someone may have alerted him. I’m still doubtful of that, though.

“Fuck, Dad’s involved now too, Callum,” I tell him. “The dick isn’t going to let up. I can tell him what we discussed, I just don’t think it’ll work.”

“Then let your inner green flag possessive alpha fly,” Callum says, shrugging.

“Yes,” I whisper, grinning.

Take that! She’s thirty-four years old, no longer a child. Hudson can cool his heels for now.

Turning my phone off, my smile is a mile wide as I pocket it away. I don’t need it, and everyone important is either in this waiting room or can get a hold of Callum. I see my girl finishing up as she gazes at the mirror, her hair freshly curled into soft waves.

“Linus,” I hiss, gently shaking him awake. He’s definitely catching up on much needed sleep, the kind where his demons aren’t chasing him in his mind. I hate stealing him away from that, but it’s time to go.

“Is she done?” he asks, jerking away as he sits up.

“I think so,” I murmur. His hair is messy, and there’s a little drool on his lip that he wipes away.

Fucking adorable.

Standing together, we walk to the station Quinn is at, where she’s running her fingers through her hair with wide eyes. The pink color looks incredible against her skin, appearing all the brighter because of the blonde.

“I love it,” I tell her as she catches my eye in the mirror.

“It looks so soft,” Callum mutters, reaching out to touch a curl. We’ve both noticed that they don’t want the space we thought they did, which is doing dark things to our control.

All I want is to spend all of my time with Quinn and Linus, wrapped up in getting to know them. That’s not being overbearing and crazy, right? I’m very self aware of how my golden retriever energy can become dark horse psychotic quickly.

“This is such a vibe, Quinn,” Linus says, grinning. “You look fantastic.”

Lifting her pad of paper that she’s been using to communicate with the stylist she says, I love it so much!

“I’m so glad you like it,” the stylist says next to us as she takes off Quinn’s cape. “I was nervous since you’ve never dyed your hair before, but it’s stunning.”

Quinn beams at her, getting out of the chair. Walking to the register, I hand my card to the receptionist, refusing to let Quinn see how much it costs. It’s something Callum and I wanted to do for her, because we love to make her happy. Easy as that.

This is not a tit for tat relationship and it never will be. Signing the credit card slip, I say goodbye and put my card away.

“One more stop,” I say as we leave the hair salon.

Quinn raises her brow at me, her face so very expressive. I imagine it took a lot of effort to keep herself appearing blank and uncaring when she needed to at the club.

Callum makes sure we’re crossing the parking lot, watching the way Quinn’s hair gleams in the dying sunlight before he answers.

“We have a pole to install in the sunroom, baby,” he says with a smirk.

Her lips move into an “o”, her cheeks heating as she walks.

“I can’t wait to be able to watch you dance again,” Linus says, smiling.

If it’s anything like earlier today, neither can I.